


Shades of Violet

by SweatersAndScarves (SlaveToMyKeyboard)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood Drinking, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Partner Swapping, Quadrant Vacillation, Rainbow Drinkers, Vamp!Kat, Vamp!Kri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7029103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToMyKeyboard/pseuds/SweatersAndScarves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat is a bored rainbow drinker with a slight obsession for purple blooded sea dwellers.</p><p>Specifically, their actual blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Karkat: Propose

**Author's Note:**

> An extension of a drabble in my [Vanpora Ficlet Collection](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6326092/chapters/14494678). Set after [Bite Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6326092/chapters/14534149) and [Blood Drunk](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6326092/chapters/14851213), a combination of both AUs (which are now one AU) where Vamp!Kri and Vamp!Kat decide to swap Amporas for a night.

“You want to _what_?” Three voices chime in unison, each of them staring at one Karkat Vantas as if he has just exercised the audacity to grow a second head in their presence.

Karkat rolls his eyes. He expected this. “I want to swap Amporas.” He repeats, looking straight at his dancestor.

Said violet bloods to be traded keep silent, looking at each other, and then their session’s respective rainbow drinkers. Kankri is equally speechless, possibly for the longest Karkat has ever known him to be, his face stunned into a blank stare.

“I’m sorry Karkat,” He says eventually, white eyes narrowed in confusion, “but I don’t believe I’m understanding you correctly, what exactly do you mean by ‘swap’?”

A smirk creeps onto Karkat’s face. He gets a very particular type of satisfaction out of robbing Kankri of his speeches, bringing him down to just a few sentences, spoken with hesitance and, at best, a bemused expression. It’s similar to the feeling he gets from seeing Eridan stripped of his ridiculous cape and jewellery, submissive and needy under Karkat’s voice alone. They’re vastly different in reality though, of course – one resulting from purely platonic distain, whilst the other fills one of the several quadrants Karkat and Eridan find themselves stumbling through. He’s tried to stick to one, he really has, but Eridan is a pitiful fucking mess just begging to be papped and blood drinking is quality blackrom material, so why waste either of them?

Karkat leans back on his hands, swinging his legs under the stool he’s perched on, “It means what you think it means, but if you need me to, I’ll explain.” He jumps up and walks slowly behind Eridan, snaking his hands over the sea dweller’s shoulders, “It means that you will spend one night with the douchebag Prince of recovering genocidal tendencies and relentlessly pitiful stupidity, whose main redeeming quality is his utterly _fantastic_ ass,” He hisses that last part right into Eridan’s earfin, revelling in the way he shivers, “whilst I have to endure the companionship of your pathetic excuse for a fish Troll obsessed with pink aliens from a universe you all failed to create.”

Once again, Karkat’s voice leaves a stunned silence in its wake. He takes the opportunity to return to his seat, dragging a claw along Eridan’s neck on the way. He’s still not entirely sure what prompted him to suggest this ‘Ampora swap’. He’s not bored of Eridan by any means – especially not after Rose just ‘happened’ to slip the alchemical code for a leash and collar under Karkat’s door – but it’s like only watching romcoms by one director or film company. Yes, you enjoy them, and yes, they’re brilliant, possibly the best you’ve ever watched. But there’s always more out there, and Karkat’s not talking about other blood colours. He guesses it was curiosity that now has him sitting opposite his dancestor, watching his face flit between several shades of confused and angry – and probably ‘triggered’ – as the sincerity of his proposal sinks in.

“I see,” Kankri begins, clearing his throat after just those two words, “and have you asked either Eridan or Cronus for their opinions on what you plan for us to do? I am sure they do not appreciate you treating them as if they are merely our property, and even though you may see Eridan that way, an arrangement which I hope you have discussed with him previously so as to avoid any potential triggers, I most certainly do not feel the same about Cronus.”

Ah there’s the trigger talk. But Kankri does have a point, Karkat did just spring it on the three of them all at once. He knows Eridan will be up for it though, they’ve talked about their dancestors before, how their situation together is different, and how it might be to experience it.

“Eridan,” Karkat says, smiling when the sea dweller immediately snaps to attention, “how do you feel about sharing me with a younger, shittier version of the bulgelick you idolized for sweeps?”

Eridan blinks a couple of times, then he catches the glint in Karkat’s eye, the same one he sees whenever they bring role play into their quadrants.

He folds his arms and smirks, “Wwell, I don’t see a problem wwith it as long as he doesn’t do any lastin’ damage, although I doubt that’ll be an issue.” Then he turns to his dancestor, whose fins are half-flared indignantly, “Wwhat about you Cro, think you can handle a little change a routine?”

Cronus glances at Kankri, then at Karkat, then back to his own Vantas.

“You shouldn’t feel obliged to say yes,” Kankri tells him, dropping the younger Trolls a glare before continuing, “I’m sure none of us will think any less of you for being uncomfortable with such an outlandish suggestion.”

“No, no it’s fine, I vwanna do it chief,” Cronus swallows thickly, unwittingly spurring both mutants to focus in on his throat, “if you’re cool vwith it that is, don’t vwanna push you into anythin’ either.”

Kankri looks up and frowns, obviously taken aback by Cronus’ reply – he really shouldn’t have been, even Karkat knew that Cronus would be desperate enough to say yes, regardless of what he suggested.

“Are you quite sure?”

Cronus nods, “Yeah, it’ll be interestin’, seein’ vwhat it’s like, ‘cause vwe share the same genetics or vwhatewver but like, vwe’re totally different, an’ it’s not ewvery day you get to knowv tvwo rainbowv drinkers vwho ain’t anglin’ to kill ya.” He spares Karkat another sweep of his oculars, as if he’s asking for confirmation that murder really isn’t his intention.

“Exactly,” Karkat says, “it’s like an experiment.”

“An experiment.” Kankri repeats, “I suppose if all of you are in agreement then we have no grounds to argue against it.”

Karkat sits forwards, “Does that mean you’re in?”

“Yes, although I require some time to discuss boundaries with Cronus, and I advise you to do the same with Eridan.”

“Meet you back here in half an hour.” Karkat stands before Kankri can protest, dragging Eridan off to another portion of the bubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My rainbow drinker Karkat is becoming a wonderfully sadistic little bastard isn't he?


	2. Eridan: Worry

“So,” You say, dropping Eridan’s wrist as you turn to face him, “are you definitely okay with this? You weren’t just pretending to seem like the ‘alpha sea dweller’ or some bullshit like that?”

“A course not,” He scoffs, “really Kar I’m totally up for this an’ I don’t think you’vve got anythin’ to wworry about wwith Kan,” then he frowns a little, “I’m more concerned about you and Cro if I’m bein’ honest, he’s built like a brick shithivve an’ doesn’t take no for an answwer.”

You roll your eyes and place your hands on his shoulders, “Eridan please, I’m a rainbow drinker, as in a supernatural badass who could very easily fuck up such a pisspoor specimen of namby pamby Beforan sea dweller beyond recognition, you have nothing to worry about.”

He nods, but the anxiety is seemingly stained onto his features.

You sigh, standing on tiptoes to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to your level, “Now, tell me what’s _really_ eating at that waterlogged pan of yours.” You keep your voice soft and quiet, letting the tips of your noses bump together.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer until your feet are almost off the floor, his hips swaying a little as they often do when he’s debating something. You can practically hear the cogs turning inside his skull as he rests his head against yours. It starts to make you nervous, because he only ever takes this long to reply when he thinks you’ll get angry about it. Then he starts to speak and you instinctively hold your breath.

“It’s really dumb an’ you’ll probably laugh,” He mumbles into your hair, “but I’vve been thinkin’ that maybe you’ll prefer Cro as a Kismesis.”

That’s… Not what you were expecting. Okay, time to do the pale thing and fix this so that he doesn’t go to Kankri all miserable and mopey.

“It’s not dumb,” You say, nuzzling his neck, “and I would _never_ choose that slimy fuckface over you, in any quadrant, okay?”

He tightens his grip on you and nods, his cold nose nudging against your horn.

“That goes for everyone,” You continue, unable to stifle a possessive growl as your lips brush over the two silvery marks on his neck, “you’re mine Ampora, and I’m yours,” you let your fangs graze his skin, going back over the thin lines with licks even though you didn’t draw blood, “don’t forget it.”

A soft whine is his reply, and you can feel his knees give a little as you press a kiss to his jaw, right under where his fin where it’s folded so far back that he might as well not have any. God, you wish it was him you were going to feed from and not Cronus. But you can’t go back now, especially since this whole thing was your idea. Eridan finally puts you down, his hands lingering on your hips for longer than necessary, but still not long enough as far as you’re concerned.

“So,” You revert back to that old gem of a conversation starter, “we’ve still got like twenty minutes, any ‘boundaries’ you want to mention?”

Eridan looks away, pressing his index fingers together, then shakes his head, “Not that I can think of, an’ I doubt Kan will do anythin’ wwithout checkin’ if it’s gonna ‘trigger’ me.”

You frown, “What about that ‘thing’ we talked about?”

“No!” It’s not quite panic that you see in his eyes, more of a pleading anxiety, or embarrassment. Why is he embarrassed? It’s not even that big of a deal. “I-I mean, that wwon’t be a problem wwith Kan, don’t wworry about it.”

“So it is a problem with me?” You weren’t going to argue, but you’re getting thirsty and he’s starting to irritate you with how pitiable he’s being.

“No, no that’s not wwhat I meant.” He stands his ground, doesn’t cower or flinch like he used to. You’re glad. “Evven if Kan did wwant to say somethin’, he’d probably do it in that passivve-aggressivve wway so that I couldn’t tell until later wwhen I thought back on it – if, _if_ I thought back on it.”

You think on that for a moment. He’s got a point sure, but even so, you don’t want him feeling uncomfortable at all, regardless of how long it is afterwards.

“Well I still want to – ah-ah,” You put up a hand to quell Eridan’s whimpering, “I still want to tell him, but I won’t be specific about anything, I’ll just play it like I’m being protective, okay?”

“You don’t need ta play at it Kar,” His pout is replaced by a slight smile, “you’re the one wwho wwon’t let me outta your sight like I’m some sort a finless, brine suckin’ wwiggler wwho’s gonna fall into an abyss just ‘cause my Lusus ain’t there to catch me.”

You smirk, “That’s because you _are_ , mister ‘oh Kar how-w the fuck do I cook bread? It’s so confusin’ to my w-water logged pan, oh my cod’.”

Yep, your Eridan impression is still terrible, but it makes him laugh at least.

“Alright, alright, just promise you’ll nevver make me die a shame by tryin’, and failing might I add, to replicate my vvery unique vvocal range evver again.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, unique, that’s one word for it.”

“And for the record,” He continues, ignoring your comment, “I didn’t ask howw to ‘cook’ bread, I kneww it wwas called toastin’, I just didn’t knoww howw to use that shitty, ass backwwards toaster the meteor provvided us wwith.”

“Right, I forgot you fishy freaks grill your grubloaf slices like ‘ciwilized Trolls’.” You add dramatic enclosure talon motions to the phrase.

He pokes your arm, “Wweh.”

You smack him back lightly on the shoulder, “That sound is stupid.”

“Your _face_ is stupid.” He smirks and he goes for your stomach, hands poised into claws.

You slap him away but he keeps jabbing at you, “No don’t! You fucker!” You try to suppress a giggle, grabbing him by the waist and holding on so he can’t tickle you.

He gives up, wrapping his arms around your shoulders with a chuckle. You take a deep breath of him and sigh. This whole ‘swap’ thing is going to be a lot tougher than you thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be doing POV chapters like this one from now on. I don't feel 100% comfortable with third person yet but the first chapter turned out okay so I'll let that be 3rd and do the rest as 2nd. Hope that doesn't bother anyone!


End file.
